


The Madness of Mania (Frerard)

by MorbidTeen



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Asylum, Blood, Death, Dom Gerard Way, F/F, Gay, Gore, Guns, LGBTQ, M/M, Psycho, Stockholm Syndrome, Sub Frank Iero, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-05-27 12:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15024272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidTeen/pseuds/MorbidTeen
Summary: Frerard AUGerard didn't have a care in the world, even after killing and being admitted to a mental asylum. He obsessed over death and cared about no one...or so he thought."I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." - Edgar Allan PoeWARNING: Morbid/Gore/Graphic depictions of death/Smut/Death/Blood/Drugs





	1. Chapter 1

[Gerard’s P.O.V]

The soft cushioning of the white walls and floor beneath me stared menacingly back at me, ricocheting any rage I threw at them; they couldn't hold me forever.

The voices inside my head continued to chip slowly away at the little sanity I had left, twisting my thoughts - the many ideas of ending people's lives surely sending me to hell;  
but I was already there.

With my arms wrapped tightly around my chest, restricted by a similarly white jacket with many shiny buckles, rocking back and forth, a crooked smile grew upon my face, devilish. Staring contently at the cushioned wall in front of me, I laughed hysterically - the giggle of a maniac, indulged in one self’s mind and finding amusement in the whispers of my brain. The high pitches of a psycho echoing throughout my lonesome ward.

They locked me up in an asylum to make me better, to put my thoughts right. Apparently murdering those burdens whom lessen your quality of life labels you insane. I was already just fine, in fact, I couldn't feel any better… If only they could see the healthiness of my mind leaking through my blood-shot eyes.

Strands of my black mop of hair fell down my face, just past my shoulders, due to the lack of attention to taming it. I could feel the dark circles forming around my eye sockets, the weeks of sleepless nights finally taking a toll on me. Nevertheless, my state failed to bother me, one of the perks of being almost completely isolated.

After rolling around aimlessly on the comfy floor for a few hours, I was interrupted by a ‘clang’ of metal against metal as the familiar sound of my cell door screeched open, just enough to let a tray of ‘food’ in.

“Dinner,” a monotone, male voice spoke.

Ignoring it, I continued to stare contently at the wall, my twisted smile still formed. With a sigh, the guard slowly pulled the steel door to a close, finally understanding my liking for solitude - my euphoria. However, I decided to have a little fun today…

As he stood adjacent to my cell door, my dilated eyes followed the wall towards him. Disregarding my lukewarm meal, I forced my body to stand, silently (even clasped within a straitjacket). Focused solely on the entrance to my cell, I crept slowly forwards, lingering by the door.

I could hear his heart beat and paced breaths, sensing the façade of bravery; how unnerving. His fear provoked my attention.

Without a second thought, I slammed my body against the door of which he stood, a loud fit of cynical laughter spewing from the depths of me. My screeches gnawing at his ears, he jumped, mumbling panicked profanities under his breath.

“Michael, I am not ten years old; I'm mature enough to hear swear words.” I pouted, childishly. How ironic.

With a vexed expression plastered across his face, he scowled at me, however also attempting to maintain a sense of professionalism.

Leaning happily against my barricade to freedom, I listened for what he had to say.

“Fuck off.” 

“That's better,” I smiled slyly, content with his reply.

Being the irritating darling I am, I found a great deal of satisfaction in messing with the primitive minds of those in close proximity to me. The confusion and fear littering across their faces sparks a happy feeling of accomplishment in me. And being within such a facility occasionally limits methods of entertainment, therefore finding a good time-passer seemed a suitable idea.

In fact, I had been in this ‘hotel for the mentally ill’ for almost four years - the last few years of my teens wasted, withering into my early twenties. But they weren't truly wasted - just a longer period of time to devise my delightful plan. 

After checking the locks on my door for exactly the ninth time, my dear guard, Michael, left me alone, finally caving in from my apparently frustrating antics.

I was actually quite surprised they hadn't sealed the iron bars on my door allowing me an outlook on my corridor, completely disconnecting me from society, hidden further away in a ‘safe haven’; but who am I to judge.

I was a mistake, an error in an already corrupt society. According to my mother and father, as long as I was hidden away, I didn't exist. A poltergeist to the real world. Or more so a myth.

They had always favoured my younger brother over me - of course all siblings have their indifferences and periods of jealousy, but they were truly infatuated with him. Their perfect son. An asset to the family, unlike me of course. I became overly infuriated with their disregard to their elder son, so I decided on their termination; and it was so well deserved.

Their unfortunate death, however, came with consequences; me being stripped of my freedom, but that was the least of my problems. As a result, I spend hours, days, months even, in the company of my own mind.

Michael had returned, along with another guard whose name I didn't care for - it was clear that he couldn't possibly look after me on his own.

“Well hello there,” I grinned, flashing my teeth at the newcomer. He looked slightly nervously towards Michael, as if asking whether to reply; his uncertainty vanished as Michael whispered to him. “It's best not to speak to the patients. Conversation only influences them.”

“That's rather rude, now isn't it Michael?” I said, acting hurt.

“Perhaps you should use that smart brain of yours and understand that we don't care for your emotions.” He said smugly, continuing to face away from my cell.

“Of course,” I sighed, falling on my back, landing with a soft thud. If only he knew what was coming to him.

The staff here were almost as stuck up as my parents - they would receive the same fate as them. 

They only had to wait their turn…


	2. Chapter 2

You would think after all this time, deprived of sunlight, I would miss the outside breeze - but no. Not one bit. I've always enjoyed lurking in the shadows, like a vampire you might say. Not that I have had much experience with the outside world.

As the guards’ conversation grew slightly more audible, they pulled my from the dialogue of my mind. 

“Hey! Can you hear that?” I giggled absentmindedly.

Michael paused, showing his ‘I'm not in the mood’ expression. “What? What is it Gerard?”

A smirk spread across my face.

“Tick…tock…” I began slowly, “tick, tock, ticktockticktock TICKTOCKTICK-” I screamed excitedly, acknowledging the new sounds my mind had created, until I was rudely interrupted by my beloved Michael.

“That's enough!” He screeched.

“Awh, come on, I was sharing the funny noises with you…” I pouted, bowing my head in shame. “They're like my best friends!” I continued, keeping up my childish game, “Just like you are!” 

“I am not your friend.” 

He was stern. Not even I could sense a falter in his tone. The other guard stared at me, looking me up and down.

I was, however, definitely not afraid of him. If anything, I was proud of him for thinking he could phase me, or was that a feeling of amusement?

“You know, my brother was called Michael” I said, almost absentmindedly. Despite the high concentration of benzodiazepines in my system, I felt a pang of sadness. “He would have been nineteen last week.”

“Well it’s a shame you killed him,” Michael stated apathetically.

“Hmm, a shame indeed,” I retorted.

I spent the next few weeks in that cell in silence. I didn’t speak a word. Not once. 

For my plan to have any chance of success, I needed to prove to the asylum that I was ‘cured’ of whatever they thought I had, or at least showing signs of improvement. Of course many of the guards, including my dearest Michael, became rather skeptical of my recent behaviour; their paranoid hushed conversations, implying I might suddenly snap.

Well, they’re not entirely incorrect.

Those weeks of silence allowed me to evaluate the past few years in a blissful state of solitude. Not once have I mourned my mother and father’s tragic demise.

I have always had a morbid fascination with death; so much so that I would scribble somber phrases such as ‘death’ and its synonyms on the basement walls, commonly known to me as my bedroom walls. To this day, the walls are still covered.

I would sit in the centre of the room, knees to my chest rocking back and forth, eyes wide, emotionless. No windows. No sunlight. No interaction with the outside world. Well, almost no interaction - on the odd occasion, my brother Michael would pay me a visit, I however called him Mikey, the shortened name was better suited to him. 

In all honesty, he was the only preferred person whom I shared blood with, despite him being the sole reason I was left and neglected by my parents…but he couldn’t entirely help that could he now? We don’t choose to be born, to be raised on a planet, in a world that brings us pain and suffering. Our lives, our futures are already dictated before we are even birthed.

Mikey, however, saw how my parents treated me, or didn’t treat me for that matter - before the day I murdered them, I hadn’t seen them in over two years. They wanted to forget about me. To forget my existence on this wretched Earth. 

My survival often depended on the butler whom delivered me food, he wasn’t much older than myself, perhaps a year or two older. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him interesting, or most importantly, attractive.

Mikey’s visits, however, often involved a comment on my pale, vampiric complexion, but that was the least of my worries. 

His attempts of keeping me company were short lived; once my megalomaniac parents discovered I had the presence of Mikey, they went berserk. They threatened to ship Mikey off to boarding school in England. Poor kid. So I snapped. I slit the butler’s throat with the knife from my steak dinner (it was a shame really), stabbed my father in the chest and pushed my thumbs into his eyes until they bled, then snapped his neck, and once collecting my fathers hand pistol I knew he had from over 10 years ago, I blew my mother’s brains against the ceiling, then stabbed her freshly dead corpse in the arms, legs and torso multiple times.

Still crouched over the corpses like a bloodthirsty, rabid animal, I turned to face Mikey with a wide grin.

He stood there petrified, like a deer in headlights. It wasn’t my fault, they drove me to this. 

“D…d-dont do this,” he stuttered. “Please.”

I pulled a mockingly shocked expression, knife in one hand, gun in the other. “Do what Mikey? You mean kill you, don’t you?”

His eyes glanced from one of my hands to the other with a nervous frown spread across his face. He backed up to the wall.

“What? Oh I would never!” I exclaimed, slowly approaching him. I wasn’t entirely mad with Mikey, mostly I was mad with my parents.

He was only fifteen, and so naive. I stood a few inches away from his face, slightly surprised that he hadn’t made any attempt of running. He was physically trembling, not believing a word I said.

“You know, you’re a start kid Mikey.” I smiled, genuinely. “It’d be a shame to see that intelligence go to waste.”

I impaled his leg with the steak knife, waiting for the tortured scream that followed.

I removed the knife from his leg, witnessing the blood spurt from the artery I apparently hit - he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes in that state. I left the scene, walking away from the sound of Mikey’s body slumping to the floor with a thud as he grabbed his thigh in agony.

Licking the blood off of the knife, I continued my stroll out of my house, greeted by the wonderful sight of flashing blue and red lights, to which a mighty voice demanded me to drop my weapons.

My recollection of how I ended up in this asylum almost brought a tear to my eye; a story with such beauty should surely be published!

My attention was pulled away from my mind as the door to my homely cell clanged open. My guard Michael walked in along with a few psychiatrists. 

“Good morning, Gerard.” Michael greeted, a slightly happier tone to his voice. “How are you today?” He continued.

“Hello! I’m rather well thank you.” I exclaimed in the most enthusiastic voice I could muster, even though I hadn’t used my voice in quite a while.

“The psychiatrists here will be asking you a few questions today, in the hope that we can move you to minimum security!”

It was perfect. An even easier escape.

“Of course.” I smiled sweetly.

After a few hours, I was walking through the hallways to the minimum security area - I apparently showed signs of dramatic improvement and no longer proved a threat to anyone. People will believe anything when you tell them what they want to hear.


	3. Chapter 3

After more than four years of preparation, I finally escaped the asylum. Between a choice of ether and chloroform, I managed to slip past the few nurses idling in the hallway.

I could have escaped a year or two earlier, but my love for solitude would not have been satisfied. And as I stood outside in the fresh, midnight air, a grin of pure joy plastered my face. Freedom feels a lot better when other people think you don’t deserve it.

As I jumped the gate, I continued onto the street. Escaping from the ‘hospital for the mentally ill’ is not as hard as you may think.

Before that day, I didn’t particularly have a goal in life. But coming to terms with my freedom altered my cognitive process - old urges resurfaced. I ached to kill again, to feel the warm crimson substance between my fingertips again. The metallic smell - oh I missed the smell. From that point onwards, my purpose was to kill.

I walked happily along the street, beaming as all the wonderful thoughts came flooding back to me. Remembering I was quite a long way away from my former place of residence, I decided to hitchhike.

Before long, a black van pulled up beside me. “Need a ride?” A masculine voice spoke softly.

“Why that would be lovely! Yes please.” I grinned mischievously. As I climbed into the passenger seat, I noticed a small pocket knife on the dashboard…how convenient.

The guy turned to me, “So, where to?”

I pointed ahead, “Just that way.” In which his eyes followed the direction I was pointing.

“Sorry man, but you’re gonna need to be more specific-“ His sentence was cut short by the sound of him gurgling on his own blood. As I removed the pocket knife from the side of his neck, blood spilled from the stab wound and his mouth, continuing to choke him.

Unplugging his seatbelt, I shoved his body out of the van leaving him to die on the road side. I climbed over the centre gear stick and handbrake and sat in the drivers seat.

Figuring out how to drive again was a challenge at first, I stalled the van at least twice - it had been roughy seven years since I had last driven a car; those were the days before I was considered a mistake to my family.

The van finally pulled away somewhat smoothly, and I drove to my house. My new home.

By the time I arrived it was the early hours of the morning (it would have been earlier if I hadn’t have crashed the van into a nearby tree). I unlocked the door using the spare key and admired the immaculate state the house was in. A wave of nostalgia overcame me as I noticed faint blood stains on the wall.

I walked deeper into the house, noticing the few lights that had been left on. Mikey’s bedroom lurked in the corridor - the door slightly ajar. Being the curious bastard I am, I pushed the door open greeted by a figure sprawled across his bed - but it wasn’t Mikey.

I heard footsteps behind me. A quick turn led me to face Mikey whose face showed the emotions of fear, hate and confusion all at once - but mostly shock. Apparently the knife that impaled his thigh hadn’t killed him after all. He dropped his glass which seemed to hold water as I felt a dampness to the leg of my asylum trousers.

“What. The. Fuck.” He breathed out hastily, slowly backing away from me.

The smashing of glass seemed to wake the sleeping guy in Mikey’s bed. “Mikey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked, a hoarseness to his tired voice. Mikey, on the other hand, was still trembling.

“It’s great to see you Mikey!” I beamed, lunging forward to engulf him in a hug. He flinched, scared of what to expect. Scared of me. “It’s been far too long. I've missed you greatly.” I pouted. “Look how grown up you are!”

“Why are you here.” It was more of a statement than a question. He was trying to sound intimidating but it hadn’t worked in his favour.

“To see you of course, and apparently your company…”

“The last time I saw you, you tried to kill me.” His voice was sincere.

“No, of course I didn’t! I told you that, didn’t I? You just deserved a little pain, that’s all.” I smiled.

“You’re sick, Gerard.” I chuckled at that.

“I’m fine Mikey! That’s why I’m here.” I rolled my eyes, disregarding the last four years of insanity and mental torture. “Now, are you going to introduce me to your boy toy here or am I going to have to do that myself?”

“Don’t call him that” he frowned. “This is Pete…my boyfriend.”

“Hi” Pete waved nervously.

“Nice to meet you Pete!” I exclaimed. “I’m Mikey’s brother Gerard, I’m sure you’ve heard lots about me.” My grin could not grow any bigger.

“Uh-huh” he nodded, meeting Mikey’s eyes for any hope of reassurance. There was none.

I turned to Mikey once again. “I really did miss you, ya know.” I gave him a brotherly hug once again, and to my surprise, he hugged me back, even if it was half-heartedly.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m staying here tonight.” I said as I walked out of the room searching for some clean clothes. “I won’t be in your hair for too long, I’ve got some business I need to attend to.” I continued. “But in the meantime, I’m going to need you two lovebirds to keep quiet, I don’t want to be filing any noise complaints.”

I heard their sighs from the other room and continued to gather items - lets just say it wasn't just clothes I was looking for.

I found a collection of knives, in the kitchen draw obviously, but I wasn’t so lucky finding a gun of any sort. It turns out the police confiscated my hand pistol, and unfortunately that was the only firearm in the house.

My adventure in search of a new killing machine would have to start tomorrow - well, later on today. Even Batman needs his beauty sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time I woke up, it was already the evening.

My trek into town took less time than expected, but I suppose that shows how desperate I was to get hold of a new gun. My laziness drove me to take a shortcut through an alleyway. My choice of route, however, was apparently near a club as the boom of a heavy bass and thrashing of guitars could be heard.

As I finally arrived at the gun store, my mind wondered, imagining all the possible ways death could be achieved with each varying weapon. I felt a wave of joy flood through me.

“Good evening sir, can I be of any assistance?” a man at the counter spoke.

“Hello,” I replied cheerfully, “Indeed, I’m looking for a revolver of some sort.”

“Right this way sir.”

In the end, I decided on the 686 revolver, despite being tempted by much larger and more powerful firearms.

After purchasing a plethora of bullets, I kindly thanked the lone sales assistant and slit his throat. As I pulled a miniature bottle of gin from my pocket (what can I say, it gets me by) his strangled cry and choking was music to my ears in that magical moment. I smashed the bottle on the floor and dropped my ignited lighter into the pool of alcohol, while taking a brisk walk to the exit. 

As I reached the alleyway, the flames had grown to a full on blaze, which was then followed by an explosion, considering the amount of ammunition and weaponry in the store.

My attention was, however, drawn to a back door that had swung open, which was apparently the door to the club with blaring music.

A figure of slightly short stature stood there - a sense of despair to their posture. With a closer look, I noticed the person standing there was in fact holding a gun to their temple. They were sobbing, uncontrollably, coming undone - I would almost say I pitied them. The muffled roar of punk rock music almost made me miss the ‘click’ of the gun’s safety being switched off - almost. 

I found myself running towards the stranger, their eyes still shut from their recent mental breakdown. Without hesitation, I slapped the gun out of their hand, however the stranger’s shock of that manoeuvre caused the trigger to be pulled. As a gun shot ricocheted through the nighttime air, police sirens echoed in the distance (most likely as a result of the blaze not so far from here), although surely there’d be fire engines?

“What the fuck-“ the stranger half-screamed, half-cried, confusion and anger in their tone. Then it hit me - quite literally. I realised where the bullet had ended up, and by the looks of it, so did the stranger standing less than a foot away from me. I had been hit. And to make matters worse, the wound was in my left thigh. I looked down, but even after the initial adrenaline had worn off and the pain had kicked in, I still found myself bewildered by the crimson substance.

Holding my hand to my leg in comfort and then removing it to get a much closer look oddly satisfied my bloodthirsty antics for now, but even my own blood didn’t bring me quite the same satisfaction.

“Shit! Man, fuck-“ Now they were showing a more panicked, remorseful motion. “I’ll call an ambulance!”

“No.” I grunted. I couldn’t afford to go back to the asylum - there would be a significantly slim chance of me escaping again.

“Let me at least drop you off somewhere-“ Their words were rushed. “Home maybe?”

“No, I can’t go there…” I trailed off as the pain really started to kick in. “Fuck.”

And of course, the gun shot had caused a commotion, even over the booming bass of the club. Police vehicles pulled up by the end of the alleyway nearest to the gun store (or what was left of it).

“We need to go, now.” 

“I’ll take you back to my apartment. At least I can try and get you patched up there. I’m, uh, Frank by the way.” His voice was shaky, most likely from shock. I didn’t have the energy to argue, or reply for that matter, but I did manage a measly nod.

After Frank picked up his discarded gun, he slung my arm over his shoulder to give me a better chance of walking, despite me being taller than him. The very short yet excruciating walk to his apartment caused an increased amount of bleeding in my wound, and as soon as he opened the door I collapsed on the sofa. He ran to the kitchen, all sorts of crashing sounds coming from the room as he searched relentlessly for a first aid kit. With a sound of triumph, he returned to the living room with some tweezers, scissors, sterilisation wipes and bandages.

Firstly he cut a patch out of my trouser leg and then used the tweezers to pick out bits of fabric. After wiping the tweezers, he then dug around the exposed wound for the bullet, but quickly stopped as an ear-deafening screech emitted from my lips.

“FUCK!”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll fucking do it myself” I retorted, ignoring his apology.

Taking the tweezers from Frank, I leaned further over my thigh, getting a better view of the wound. I finally managed to locate the bullet that had torn through a rather large amount of tissue and even muscle, and then carefully delved in to retrieve it.

The agonising pain once again returned, but I was determined to get that son-of-a-bitch piece of lead out of my leg. After what seemed like an eternity of cursing, I dislodged the bullet and pulled it out, throwing it across the room in pain-induced anger. 

This is what happens when I do the ‘right’ thing. When I try to help people; in my experience, there has never been a good outcome for me, for example being shot in the fucking leg.

Blood was still leaking from the wound and so Frank cleaned the wound, and applied pressure to it before cutting the rest of my trouser leg off. He then bandaged my leg tightly, tying the knot of the bandage just on top of the wound.

“Since when did you learn first aid?” I questioned.

“You’ve known me for what, half an hour?” He scoffed. “Anyway I learnt it back in high school - its always stuck with me I guess.”

“Huh, well I must say you did a pretty good job.” Looking at my leg, there was no blood seeping through the bandage and the pain had subsided somewhat.

It was a rather odd sight; I had an entire trouser leg missing. “I don’t suppose you have a spare pair of jeans?”

“You might just be in luck.” He chuckled as he stood up to fetch a pair.

In the short time he was gone, I noticed a few photographs in picture frames around his apartment, most of which pictured Frank with another man. From what I could decipher, it seemed that Frank was particularly close with the pictured person.

As he returned with some clothing and after I had put on said clothing, I decided to question him on it. “Who’s that?” I questioned bluntly, pointing towards the photograph on the cabinet.

“Dude, you’re a nosey fucker, you know that?”

“I’m just curious is all.” I replied as innocently as I could.

Frank seemed to hesitate at first, seeming reluctant to even touch upon the subject of this mysterious man.

“Uh, he was- uh” His words were choked as though he was trying to hide his emotion. “He was, um, my boyfriend”

“Was?” Okay, at that point I became incredibly intrigued, not caring how intrusive I was being with his personal life.

He began sniffing, a nervousness to his release of emotion. “Uh-huh, yep, that’s right.” He was definitely uncomfortable talking about this.

“What happened?” My consideration was practically non-existent.

He buried his face in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sat there sobbing on the sofa. “He died.”

There was a long pause, I began to feel a slight pang of guilt. Did I kill him? Was his boyfriend the guy in the black fan? Oh shit-  
“I killed him.” He stated coldly, stopping my train of thought. Damn my overactive brain.

Wait, since when did I start caring? And secondly, what were the chances of befriending another killer? Huh.

“Shit-“ but he quickly cut me off.

“I didn’t mean to…well I did, but- oh I don’t know!” He was a mess. A wreck even, but there was still something interesting or perhaps intriguing about him. “He cheated on me, and it wasn’t even the first time.” He paused again. “One day he came home and suddenly announced he was leaving me, moving far away with his new fuck. I was distraught. I was losing my mind and I was so angry and confused and upset and-“ He inhaled a shaky breath. “So I shot him.” He sighed. ”If I couldn’t have him, no one could.”

I found myself placing a hand on his back as he remained in his hunched over position. He was tense at first but soon found comfort in my touch. He rubbed his eyes, wiping away the tear stains.

“I dumped his body out the back.” With a groan he continued, “How disrespectful can I be?”

I had to think about my words carefully. “I’ve heard worse.” More like I’ve done worse. “So I’m guessing thats why I found you in that alleyway with the gun pointing to your head?”

Still not making eye contact, he nodded. “I couldn’t live with myself - I still can’t if I’m honest. I know killing is wrong, but killing someone…and liking it- that’s what tipped me over the edge. I can’t live with myself knowing that I enjoy genocide.” There was a sense of nonchalance to his tone. Frank just had mixed morals.

Despite being the clever and cunning individual that I am, I didn’t have a response, I couldn’t simply say ‘oh I can completely empathise’, not that it would be completely true - I do enjoy killing, but I don’t regret it.

“What happened to your ex-boyfriend’s so-called fuck?” I noticed how the term ‘ex’ stung Frank, his face almost wincing as though he felt a physical pain.

“I uh, don’t know.” His expression held worry, yet his tone was genuine. “I guess he fucked off to wherever they said they were going. He’s probably fucking someone else right now - maybe he wasn’t so loyal after all.” He was still in deep thought. “But what happens if he comes back looking for him - or me.” His panic quickly escalated.

“I won’t let that happen.” I stated with meaning backed behind my words.

For a brief second Frank looked up and made eye contact with me, a smile tugging at his lips before once again lowering his gaze to his lap. Somehow I knew I needed to help Frank; of course I had my own business to attend to, but I was sure he could tag along with me on my adventures.

Still in deep thought, we simply sat there drowning in the silence.

Those familiar voices began to creep back into my mind, their ideas and their laughter echoing within my skull - persuading me to kill. ‘Kill, kill, kill’ - they reminded me of those nights spent locked up in the asylum, preventing me from acting out upon my desires. That instantly reminded me of the revenge I had planned out for those doctors and security guards - especially Michael. The voices’ antics were muted however as frank stood up. 

“If you cant go back home I suppose you better stay the night.” He muttered as he walked out of the living room, to then return with a duvet.

“Thanks” I replied, genuinely grateful.

“I’ll drop you off wherever in the morning, I’m too tired right now.” He sighed, tiredness clearly apparent in his voice. He retreated to what I assume was his bedroom.

I remembered that night quite well. I lied there questioning almost everything. Why was I being kind to a guy I had not long met? Why hadn’t I killed him yet? And what was it that intrigued me so much about Frank?

Only time will tell.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning I awoke to the smell of coffee drifting through the apartment. The euphoric scent brought me to my feet, until of course the pain from my injured leg coursed through my body in which I then fell back on to the sofa. “Ah, shit.” I huffed, gritting my teeth.

Frank walked in from the kitchen with a mug of coffee clasped in his hands. “Morning.” He smiled. “Is everything okay?”

“Yup, I’m just still getting used to having a hole in my leg.” I chuckled, sanely for a change.

He placed the coffee mug down on the table beside me. “Well, who knows, maybe this coffee will have magical healing powers.” He had a stupid grin on his face. I laughed again at that - if his coffee tastes anywhere near as good as it smells then I’m sure it does. When I didn’t move, he put the mug in my hands. “Here, have some.” 

“Thanks.” I took a gulp of the heavenly beverage, followed by a sigh of contentment. Damn, Frank made a good coffee.

He smiled once again. “So when you’re finished I’ll drop you off-“ He paused, “where exactly?”

“Uh, my house…please.” I was oddly hesitant.

“I thought you said you can’t go there.” Frank questioned.

“That was yesterday. I didn’t want to make a disturbance.”

Frank was still sending me a questioning look.

“I live with my brother, okay, and I don’t need him knowing about this incident. Please don’t mention the gun shot wound to him.” What the fuck was happening to me? Why was I pleading to him? I’m the one who should be making the orders. I was the one people would cower at, just at the mention of my name. What was this Frank guy doing to me?

“But surely he should know-“

“I said don’t.” I stood up despite the torment my leg gave me.

Frank seemed to shut up then, providing me with a nod.

As we slowly but surely made our way to Frank’s car (mainly because of me), I gave him directions to my house and shortly we were pulling off the drive.

The journey was mostly spent in silence, despite me giving a direction every so often. 

As the car came to a halt on the gravel driveway, I unbuckled my seat belt and got out of the car. I begun limping to the front door until I noticed Frank standing by his car door, his mouth hung open in awe. I thought he was amazed by the size of the house until he spoke.

“Wait, I-I recognise this place…” A wave of fear overcame his facial features. I could tell he had instantly regretted coming here. “It was all over the news…the dead bodies…the murderer.” He looked at me. I found amusement as he pieced the puzzle together.

“It was you.” He blinked, whimpering slightly as well. “You’re Gerard Way.”

I began clapping my hands together in a rather proud yet sarcastic way. 

“Yes Frankie! I am that so-called psychopathic murderer that you’ve heard about on the news!” My grin grew tremendously. “And yes, I killed my parents!” I was bursting with joy, he had finally figured it out.

“I’m not going to kill you Frank. You’re interesting.” I frowned as he still looked petrified.

He began patting down his pockets frantically before realising he didn’t have his gun.

He slowly inched away before trying to make a run for it.

“NO!” I shouted, grabbing his wrist and slamming his head against the car bonnet. “You WILL NOT leave me!”

Frank’s unconscious body laid slumped against the car as I went inside to fetch Mikey - at least he could help me carry him inside. 

 

[Frank’s P.O.V]

I woke up to a pounding headache with the sound of arguing voices coming from another room - it reminded me of my childhood. Coming to my senses, I froze as I remembered where I was.

“Firstly you escape the asylum, then you disappear again and the next time I see you, you’ve got some unconscious guy on the driveway!” They seemed pissed. “Gerard, I thought that part of your life - all the killing - I thought it was over.” Their voice was laced with disappointment and a dash of apprehensiveness.

“Since when did I say that?” Gerard’s familiar voice rang through my ears - he must have been talking to his brother. “I cant help it Mikey, you know that. I’m surprised I haven’t killed Frank yet.” The end of his sentence trailed off, it was almost inaudible, but I heard it.

I wanted to run. To get as far away from here as humanly possible - despite their conversation, knowing my luck, Gerard’s brother was probably a serial killer too. But I couldn’t. I was lying in a bed with my wrists tied to a rather extravagant head board. I felt an even more intense rush of panic.

“I’ve had the police on my ass for the majority of the night you were gone. They knew you’d come here, Gerard, they’re not stupid.”

“Oh, but they are my dear brother.” His tone sounded crazed. Eerily creepy. “Soon, I’ll be long gone from here.”

Their conversation fell silent. I tried wriggling out of the handcuffs but it was no use. 

“Why did you have to bring him in here? Why couldn’t you have just let him go? For fuck sake Gerard, he helped you get home didn’t he?” Gerard sighed heavily at his brother’s questions.

“I couldn’t have him try suicide again now, could I?”

“Wait, what?“ Mikey was definitely confused. “But you’re only going to kill him anyway-“

“You don’t know that!” Gerard retorted, anger present. His voice sounding as though he was welling up with emotion.

I didn’t know what scared me more: the fact that Gerard was indeed a serial killer, or the fact that he was incredibly unpredictable. In all honesty, both of those factors seemed to entice me.

As my struggle proved to no avail, I released a shaky breath - preparing myself for my inevitable demise as I closed my eyes.

 

I could’ve sworn I heard footsteps. My body shifted slightly feeling as though it had sunk. To my surprise, it was not a realistic dream, but in fact Gerard slightly hovering over me from my side. 

“Wakey wakey princess! You’ve been very sleepy lately.” He sounded as though he was speaking to a child - he had that extra hint of enthusiasm and excitement to his tone. He tucked my hair behind my ear. 

As bad as it sounds, I couldn’t tell if I was more turned on or scared by his actions.

“We’ve got a big day today!” He added. “So we need to get a move on!” He seemed so overly happy.

So many questions were flooding my brain, I almost couldn’t comprehend anything. “Are you…going to kill me?” Was all I could manage in my scared-shitless state. Well - confused state.

“Why would I want to kill such a sweet little guy like you?” He continued in his excitable voice and then booped my nose. “Of course not, silly!” He let out a soft giggle. “Now c’mon, we’ve got places to go!”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!”

Oh fuck.


	6. Chapter 6

[Gerard’s P.O.V]

I couldn’t understand why Frank still looked so scared, or perhaps uneasy was the right word. We were going on a road trip, and the location of said road trip was a surprise! He should be happy, or most importantly, excited.

I unlocked the handcuffs from the headboard of the bed Frank was lying on, unlocking them from his wrists as well. Mikey didn’t understand why handcuffs were necessary - but I thought it was quite obvious. Frank could have escaped for goodness sake! My brother really doesn’t make sense to me sometimes.

Frank immediately grabbed his wrist - perhaps the handcuffs were tighter than I originally thought. I felt a pang of sympathy - an emotion foreign to me.

“Let’s go.” I smiled gently at him, but he showed me no emotion in return. I took his hand, leading him through the kitchen to say goodbye to Mikey and Pete.

“Bye Mikey! Bye Pete!” I waved, grinning. “We may not see you for a while.” I added, looking at Frank with a grin as I spoke.

Mikey looked torn, I suppose he felt bad for Frank, but there was no need for him to do so. “Bye Gerard…” he sighed, not making eye contact as he leant against the counter.

“Don’t be rude Frankie, say goodbye.” I pouted.

He waved half-heartedly with his free hand at Mikey and Pete, in which Pete returned the gesture with just as much liveliness. 

Mikey and Pete exchanged glances with a shaky breath as I led Frank through the front door. It had seemed that I had long forgotten about the still healing hole in my leg - the excitement of our road trip consuming the majority of my thoughts.

I opened the car door of Mikey’s car, instructing Frank to get in (Mikey did not know I was taking his car). As I got in the drivers seat of the car, I buckled my seatbelt, noticing Frank had not already done so.

“It’s not safe to drive without a seat belt on.” I frowned.

“It’s not safe to be with you.” 

A blank expression loomed on his face.

That hurt. I was going to take care of Frank, yet he couldn’t see that. His hazel irises stared vacantly towards the house. Not a single emotion was present on his face, not even a twitch of anything. I almost felt like crying. I wanted him to be happy, with me. I wanted to be happy together.

I locked the car doors.

“I’m sorry Frankie, but I can’t have you knowing where we’re going.” I frowned slightly once again, not looking forward to what was going to happen next.

“Wha-“

Both of my hands had a firm grip on his throat, just below his jawline. A sleeper hold if I were to use the correct terminology. He begun grabbing at my hands trying desperately to pull them away, but to no avail he continued to choke. It was evident he was slipping into unconsciousness as his efforts to remove my hands from his throat came to a stop. I released my grip as his body became limp. To any passers by, it would seem as though he was simply sleeping - which of course he was.

I needed to get as far away from this town as possible before he woke up - I couldn’t have him memorising the route now could I? I pulled out of the driveway in a much more smoother motion than my previous attempt the other day.

[Frank’s P.O.V]

My heavy eyelids blinked open slowly, greeted by the many trees that lined the road we were driving on - we were driving through a forest. 

My throat felt bruised and tender - shit - I realised how I came about my slumber.

I turned my head quickly to look at Gerard who was still concentrating on the road, then stared forwards again - panic raging throughout my body, my palms became sweaty and my heartbeat sped up tremendously.

“You’re awake! Did you have a nice sleep?” Gerard held a smile, briefly looking towards my direction while still keeping most of his attention on the road.

“Wha- what the fuck, w-why would you do that?” I stuttered out, trying to sound more angry than scared - not that it worked.

I was terrified. Nothing he said would have stopped that.

He paused momentarily. “It was for your own good.”

I turned to face him once again, a mixture of shock and fear pulsing through my body. “For my own good?!” I shouted. “Are you fucking serious?”

He hit the brake pedal incredibly hard, almost giving us whiplash in the process.

“Do not use that tone with me!” He spat as the car sat motionless in the middle of the road, yet within a split second he was grinning again, “I’m always serious Frankie.”

I didn’t know how to react, I was hysterical - I wanted to run, scream, cry and oddly laugh all at the same time.

“Normal people don’t strangle other people, Gerard.” I managed to say, my voice still feeling slightly hoarse.

“I never said I was normal.” He smirked, staring contently towards me.

That was it. I didn’t know how to get out of this mess. I couldn’t escape. That was what pushed me over the edge, what made me snap.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I began to sob. I felt hopeless. My tears were the only thing that gave me comfort in that moment.

“Awh, Frankie, it’ll be okay. Please don’t be sad.” He said in a caring manner as he caressed my cheek with his thumb. I could have pulled away or pushed his arm away from me - I had every intention to, but I just…didn’t.

He turned my head to face him when I didn’t answer, looking directly into my eyes. He may have been a psychopathic serial killer, but he sure as hell was beautiful. His vibrant wide eyes showed that he cared, and his perfect furrowed eyebrows held a sense of worry. His black hair framed his face in a flawless manner, and even in my state, I couldn’t help but smile just a little bit.

“I won’t hurt you again.” His voice felt so sincere until he added, “within reason.” I lowered my gaze, realising for a second time that I’ll never be safe with him. “I promise.”

His words meant nothing to me until he kissed my cheek. His hands slipped from cupping my cheeks to resting on my shoulders.

For the clarification he felt he needed to make, he continued, “I wont hurt you unless you give me a really good reason to, okay?” His tone was soft, yet the meaning behind his words felt slightly threatening.

“Okay.” I replied shakily.

He smiled, satisfied with my response.

Once again, he placed both hands on the steering wheel and continued to drive to wherever the hell this mysterious destination was.


	7. Chapter 7

[Gerard’s P.O.V]

After hours of nothing but trees and blissful silence, we finally pulled up to a gas station. I could feel the tiredness clawing away at my eyes, begging me to sleep, but there was no time for sleep, at least not yet.

I turned to face Frank, noticing that he was leaning against the door frame, light snores emitting from him. That boy sure did sleep a lot. 

“Frankie,” I cooed, shaking his shoulder lightly. “We’re here.”

“Huh.” He said, his sleepiness disorientating him.

“We’re going to get some food and fill the car up with fuel.” I nodded, hoping that he was following along with what I was saying. “But firstly I’m going to have to kill everyone in that gas station.” I added, pointing towards the unfortunately not so busy building.

Frank, to my surprise, didn’t bother arguing or questioning me. He simply nodded with an nonchalant “okay,” not caring about my actions at this point.

“You’re coming with me. You need a leg stretch at least.” It wasn’t so much a demand, but more of a friendly suggestion.

“Sounds great.” His tone of voice was hard to decipher - his comment wasn’t entirely sarcastic, yet it wasn’t completely genuine.

“I would love it if you helped me Frankie.” I pulled an extra revolver from a compartment in the car, hesitant about handing it to Frank. I had definitely gained a substantial amount of trust in him recently - he hadn’t tried to run at least. But my main issue was whether I could trust him to not put a bullet in my head.

“Remember how much you liked killing last time?” I giggled. “You’ll have so much fun this time, I promise.” 

He smiled at the thought of it. He had finally caved - I had gotten through to him. I gave him the gun and almost instantly his eyes lit up.

“Let’s go inside.” I briefly held his hand, beaming with happiness before we both got out of the car.

Just before we entered the building, I leaned over to Frank and whispered in his ear. “Now remember, you go to the bathrooms and I’ll take care of the guys in the front here, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiled at me. “I hope I don’t mess up.”

“I know you won’t.” I encouraged. “You can do it.” I leaned in to kiss his cheek. His smile immediately grew and his cheeks glowed a slightly darker shade of red.

With that, we casually walked inside - weapons hidden in our pockets. I walked towards the counter as Frank made a beeline for the toilets.

I asked the woman at the counter for a pack of cigarettes and upon her return I pulled the trigger, shooting her directly between the eyes. Her body landed on the floor with a loud ‘thump’. That was Frank’s cue to start wreaking havoc in the bathrooms.

After picking up the cigarettes and a lighter I swivelled on my feet, shooting the three other people littering the store before they had a chance to escape. One by one, like skittles, they fell to the ground. Momentarily, their blood began to pool around their heads as they laid lifeless upon the linoleum floor.

I grabbed a random supply of food items and other things that we would probably need and threw them into a bag.

Gun shots sounded from the general direction of the bathroom. I had the smile of a cheshire cat as I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed towards where the bullets had been fired.

As I pushed open the door, I saw Frank standing there, staring in shock at the gun in his hands. A few bodies were scattered in the cubicles - their attempts of hiding didn’t prove to be successful.

“They begged for their lives, Gerard. But I decided they couldn’t live.” He showed his teeth in a toothy grin. “I did it, Gee. I killed them.”

I internally beamed at the nickname, I liked it- no, I loved it. “I’m so proud of you Frank.” I paced towards him, pushing him up against the wall and connected our lips in a feverish kiss. To my satisfaction, he kissed back, but only after the initial shock had passed. His hands were tugging at my hair and our tongues were colliding. A moan escaped Frank’s lips as my hands slid from his hips to his ass.

Unfortunately, our heated kiss was interrupted with the sound of sirens blaring in the distance. I pulled away from Frank, panicked and breathless.

“Shit, Frank, we’ve got to get out of here.”

“Oh fuck the cops.” His voice held lust as he continued kissing me, his lips trailing down my jawline to my neck. “I’d much rather fuck-“

“Frank no, we need to go.” My nerves were getting the better of me. Being locked up in an asylum did not suit me.

He took my hand as I led him through the store (avoiding slipping in the pools of blood) and quickly climbed into the car as I threw the bag on the back seat. I hit the acceleration pedal with my foot, and sped out of the gas station leaving tyre marks on the tarmac. It’s always fun to give the police some sort of a lead - it keeps things interesting. But perhaps it wasn’t one of the smartest ideas I’ve had.

With the sun almost set, I continued down the long road to nowhere in search of a place to stay, my hand loosely in Frank’s with grins plastered on our faces.


	8. Chapter 8

A further hour of driving lead us to the outskirts a rather small rural town. My foolishness cost us however as the car spluttered and fizzed until it finally came to a stop. I let out an angered huff - my lack of thought had caused this mishap. I partially blamed Frank for this, if I wasn’t so distracted by him, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Fucking hell,” I exclaimed.

“Don’t worry Gee, it looks like there’s a house up a head.” Frank chimed in, placing a soothing hand on my leg.

My anger disappeared at that. My attention was drawn to the lights of the house about a hundred metres ahead of us as Frank pointed towards it.

“What would I do without you?” I smiled with thankfulness. He giggled as I pulled him in for an innocent kiss. His laughter could cure anything.

“Let’s go ask them for help.” He added.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I smirked.

“If it’s killing the occupants of that house, then yeah, probably.” He said cooly, sending me a sly look.

“I fucking love you.” The odds of finding this beautiful man were honestly not in my favour, yet I found him. Granted it wasn’t in the greatest way, if I had been a second too late, he wouldn’t be living and breathing. I may not have known him for very long (technically only a few days), but my adoration for him had only grown since our first encounter.

“You get the gun, I’ll get the knife.” I smirked at him once again.

He returned an equally evil expression, and we both climbed out of the car, hand in hand as we walked towards the lone house in this wooded area of town, with our weapons hidden once again.

Considering how late it was, I was surprised the people in the house were even awake - or perhaps it was normal for them to leave their lights on all night.

As we approached the door, I rang the door bell and knocked just to be sure they had heard me. A few seconds later, the front door creaked open, showing the face of a woman peering from behind the door.

“Umm, hi. Can I help you?” She said, not so much in a rude tone but with confusion. She looked between me and Frank and smiled as she caught a glance of our joined hands.

“Hello.” I spoke happily. “We were wondering if you could give us some directions please.”

“Our car broke down and we were hoping you could point us in the direction of the nearest garage.” Frank continued.

“Who is it, babe?” Another woman said, leaning around the kitchen door frame, before she had the chance to answer.

“Just a nice couple asking for directions.” She smiled as she turned to face who I assumed was her partner.

In that moment as she turned to face us once again, Frank took his gun out and shot the woman standing in the hallway. Before any emotion could register with the woman who answered the door, I pulled my knife from my pocket and stabbed her in the abdomen. She looked down to her stomach, holding it in pain as blood dripped from her mouth, then looking up to me in horror. To speed things up, I forcefully removed the knife from her torso and slit her throat before impaling her head through her eye socket, striking immediate death.

Of course the mess we had made here required a substantial amount of cleaning, but it was worth it. After we dumped the bodies out the back, deciding what to do with them later, we used the cleaning supplies to remove the blood stains from the wall and flooring as well as the front porch.

Once that task was finished, Frank and I pushed Mikey’s car to the back of the house - we couldn’t have the cops finding clues to our current residency, could we now?

I slumped down on the sofa next to Frank, exhaustion really begun to take a toll on me.

“Looks like we’ll be staying here for the time being.” I yawned. “Better get comfortable.” Frank leaned against my shoulder and sighed contently.

“I’m comfortable as long as I’m with you.” He nuzzled his head further into the crook of my neck.

As much as I loved him for saying that, I chuckled. “You seemed to have a different opinion yesterday.”

“He pulled away slightly and frowned. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I sure hope you didn’t.”

I kissed his forehead and with that, we fell asleep leaning against one another.

 

[Frank’s P.O.V]

 

The next morning, I woke up with a slight pain in my neck from sleeping upright and resting on Gerard. He was still fast asleep - I guessed he hadn’t slept as much as me.

I decided to explore the rest of the house since we had only really seen the ground floor. As I stood up from the sofa, I walked like a zombie to the staircase, my body still trying to wake itself up.

The upstairs was just as modern and stylish as the downstairs of the house. The walls and doors were white, with matted silver-finish door handles.

As I walked through the hallway, I noticed one of the doors was still open. Peering inside, I realised that it must have been the previous owners’ bedroom. The room was just as tidy as the rest of the house, but still managed to hold that homely feeling.

The bed was still made, indicating that the couple hadn’t made it to bed yet before Gerard and I had killed them. 

I walked over to the bed and sat down on it. The mattress was incredibly comfortable and the duvet was just as cozy. I found myself throwing my legs up onto the bed and leaning back on the soft cushions. 

So much for exploring - I couldn’t see myself leaving that room anytime soon. With that, my weighted eyes fell shut once again.

What seemed like seconds later, I felt a weight pressing against my lower torso, followed by nibbling on my neck.

I opened my eyes to the sight of a not so tired Gerard straddling my hips.

“You found the bedroom.” He grinned, before returning to kissing me just behind my ear.

“I sure did.” I breathed out, followed by a moan as Gerard began to suck harshly on my neck. “And you found me.”

I moved my hands to his ass, in which he replied with a moan that went straight to my dick.

“I want you Frankie.” He whispered into my ear, then biting it as he pulled away.

“I want you too, Gee.” I whined as my jeans began to feel tighter.

“I want to fuck you, Frankie. I want to fuck you so hard, you won’t be able to walk.” He breathed hotly, in between kisses.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed him. “Do it.” I replied desperately, to which he crashed his lips against mine - one hand pulling my hair, the other hand palming me through my jeans. I removed his t-shirt by grabbing at the hem, before he did the same for mine. He stared down in awe at my tattoos, tracing them with his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful.”

I blushed, and before I could disagree with him, he was trailing kisses down my body. As he reached the waistband of my jeans, he started to unbutton them. I lifted my lower body giving him a better chance at pulling them off completely. As he threw my jeans to the ground, I grabbed at his, pleading for him to take them off as my attempts of doing so had sadly failed.

He giggled at my whining as he finally complied, ridding himself of the restricting denim fabric, which revealed the bandaging of his gun shot wound. He tugged at the waistband of my boxers, his eyes staring up at me as he slowly removed them, revealing my fully erect dick.

“I need you so bad Gee.” I moaned, moving my hand to my erection.

“No touching.” He demanded. “That’s my job.” He smirked, batting my hand away. He replaced my hand with his mouth, slowly licking the tip. As I squirmed beneath him, he took most of me in his mouth bobbing his head up and down with his tongue swirling magically around my dick. Gerard was fucking good with his tongue.

As pre-cum leaked from my cock, he pulled off, saliva dripping down his chin, with a lopsided smirk on his face.

“I can’t have you finishing yet. We’re only just getting started.” His eyes were dark, his tone filled with want and lust. I didn’t know how much more I could take of this.

He leaned over the bed to the floor, picking up a bottle of lube.

“Where the hell did that come from?” I questioned - it’s not entirely common for people to casually carry bottles of lube with them.

“I found it in a compartment in Mikey’s car - seems like him and Pete have been pretty busy.” He shuddered.

“I don’t even want to think about what they’ve done in that car.” I grimaced. “Can we burn it later?”

“I like your thinking.” He smirked.

Opening up the bottle of lube, he covered his fingers in a generous amount.

“Are you ready?” He leaned up and kissed my lips affectionately.

“Yeah.” I nodded desperately.

He pushed a finger into my entrance, slowly pushing in. He started to move as I adjusted to the intrusion, moving in and out.

“Fuck, Gerard.” I breathed out. The initial pain had worn off and I began to crave more. “I need more,” I shivered, “- add another finger please, anything.” I moaned. I really couldn’t take the teasing any longer.

“Say that you need me.” He spoke hotly as he added a much needed finger.

“I need you.” I emphasised. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to fuck me like he promised. “Gerard, fuck me.” I whispered, overwhelmed by pleasure.

He began scissoring his fingers inside my ass and I moved against him in a similar motion. I grunted in response to the blissful feeling.

Suddenly he removed both fingers completely, leaving me whimpering in protest of the emptiness.

“Shhhh,” he cooed, “You’ll get what’s coming to you.” He stroked my hair, thankfully not with the hand he had been fingering me with, and then tucked it behind my ear in a gentle manner.

Finally, he removed his own boxers, revealing an impressive erection - it shocked, yet excited me. There’s no way I’ll be walking for at least a few days.

He lubed himself up, releasing a moan at the much needed contact. Watching Gerard like that nearly made me cum - the way his mouth hung open, and his eyes fluttered shut. The pornographic picture was just perfect.

Before I could do anything, he spread my legs further apart as he held onto them, lining himself up as he pulled my ass onto his lap.

He looked down at me with want. His eyes were dark with sexual desire.

“Fuck me.” I whispered a final time. I didn’t have to say it again.

The moment he pushed in, I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. The intense feeling of fullness had overwhelmed me. However as Gerard continued to push in and out, the pleasure definitely overrode the pain.

“You’re so tight Frankie.” He said with a pleasurable breath.

“Fuck, Gee.” I moaned as he pounded into me. My hands instinctively gripped the sheets as I was in pure ecstasy.

I wrapped my legs around his back to get a better angle, if that were even possible. Yet it was. His forceful thrusting combined with my desperate movement hit my prostate. 

I screamed in pleasure, my orgasm quickly approaching. By the looks of it, Gerard was close too.

He grabbed my dick, beginning to pump it in time with his thrusts. I felt as though I was being torn apart - quite literally. I pulled myself up to him in a quick attempt to join our lips - it resulted in a brief sloppy kiss, before I fell back down on the bed.

It was too much. I needed release. The burn in the pit of my stomach had become too much.

My breathing hitched. My pants grew higher in pitch.

“Gee!” I screamed as I came all over his hand and my stomach.

My legs slipped from his back as I lost all energy and coherence, yet he still continued to pound into me.

“Fuck.” He chanted, higher and higher as he came closer and closer to his release.

I felt a warm substance spill inside of me as he screeched “Frank!”

He fell on my chest, ignoring the mess I had made - his heavy pants still present. 

“I fucking love you,” he spoke in between his breaths. “You’re mine now.” His possessive tone had creeped back.

I couldn’t help but reply with, “I’m yours…all yours.”

There was a feeling of pain still coming from my ass. “Hey, uh, could you pull out?” I chuckled, still a little scared for the answer.

“Oh but I love feeling you Frankie.” He pouted before chuckling as well and, to my comfort (or maybe discomfort), pulling out.


	9. Chapter 9

[Gerard’s P.O.V]

 

I climbed off of Frank in order to find a towel at least to clean us off. It had been so long since I had last had sex that I was surprised I even lasted that long. But I wanted to see Frank in that gorgeous, raw and exposed form for as long as I could. The way his skin glistened, the way he was coming undone underneath me from the pleasure I was giving him.

As I returned, he attempted to sit up, but immediately regretted that decision.

“Fuck, you’ve got a big dick.” He breathed out in pain as he tried soothing his lower back.

I laughed at that. “If it helps, I won’t fuck you again.”

“No, no, no.” He immediately brushed me off. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll get used to it.” To which he laughed as well.

“Now, lets get you cleaned up.” I said wiping his stomach with a towel I had found. “I think you need a shower, Frankie.” I added, pretending to gag on the stench that really wasn’t that bad.

“Hey! Says you.” He argued. “And besides, I’ll only shower if it’s with you.”

“Ugh, so needy.” I rolled my eyes, followed by a playful smirk. I leaned down to him, placing a love-induced kiss on his lips. His beautiful hazel eyes stared up at me as I pulled away.

“C’mon.” I smiled, taking his hand.

With a lot of help, he eventually managed to stand up and walk to the shower with my arm around him. I found it slightly silly really - I was the one with a gunshot wound to the leg, not him, but I guess I did fuck him pretty hard.

I turned the shower on, holding his hand as he walked into the shower too. 

I told him to stand under the stream of water first, and I began to wash his hair, massaging the shampoo into his scalp. His eyes fell shut, partially to avoid the stinging of soapy water, partially due to the relaxing feeling.

Once I rinsed his hair, he did the same for me, but as soon as he finished, I pushed him against the shower wall.

How much pleasure could a person endure in one day? I guess there’s only one way to find out. 

I held my hands to his hips, our crotches rubbing against each other. His arms wrapped round my neck almost instinctively at this point.

“I’m proud of you.” I smiled, gazing into his eyes. “For not killing yourself.”

He returned the gesture. “Why would I want to when I’ve got you in my life?”

At that, I kissed him, my lips moulding against his. Despite the situation, there was no lust fuelling our motives, but only love. The long kiss was meaningful and passionate.

As our kiss finally broke, I gazed once again into his eyes. “I love you, Frank.” There were no other words that came anywhere close to describing how I felt.

“I love you too, Gerard.” He replied with just as much love in his voice.

We stood there for a little while longer; standing in each others arms with our foreheads pressed together. I hummed in happiness - I never wanted to leave him. I wanted to be together forever.

After we finished in the shower, I noticed my bandages had become ineffective - the combination of being worn for a few days and being covered in water had caused them to loosen and fall down my leg, revealing a rather large bruise and of course hole.

I dried my body off, carefully avoiding my injury, before speaking again. “Looks like I’m going to need some new bandages.”

Frank followed my eyes, blessing his own with the sight of the slightly infected, bruised and bloody wound. He grimaced.

Usually, blood wouldn’t phase Frank, but perhaps blood seeping from his significant other, being me, would.

“I’ll get you some bandages, there’s bound to be some in the kitchen.”

“Are you sure you can walk?” I questioned with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll just hold onto everything.” He exhaled with a laugh. “It’s better if I go, causing more bleeding isn’t really a risk you should take.”

“Okay, well if you’re sure.” I shrugged.

As he walked out of the bedroom, I went to sit on the bed, but realised that it was still somewhat sticky. I pulled a face, then dragged the duvet off of the bed, before finally going back to lie down on it.

“Hey Frankie, are you okay?” I called out, waiting for a response.

“Yup! Just getting some aspirin as well.” How sweet, he was getting painkillers for me as well.

He returned with a glass of water and first aid kit, but no aspirin. It was almost like deja vu.

“What about the aspirin?”

“Oh, I’ve already taken some. Thanks for asking.” He smiled smugly.

“You asshole!” I threw a pillow at him playfully.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed. “I got you some too - it’s in the first aid kit.”

After he bandaged me up once again, we decided to get dressed. We were still both completely naked, not that I was complaining.

We spent a good few days in that house, having plenty of food supplies from what was in the fridge, and from what I picked from the gas station.

You could probably guess what two gay guys in their early twenties got up to during all this alone time. Yes, that’s right, we binge watched ‘Queer Eye’ - okay, no we didn’t, well…not all the time.

I always said how solitude was my favourite thing, but now…I wasn’t so sure. Frank was becoming a very close second. Or maybe it was solitude with Frank that I enjoyed more.

 

[Frank’s P.O.V]

 

“I say we burn the bodies in Mikey’s car,” Gerard spoke out of the blue.

“Hell yeah!” I replied. “I’d been hoping you’d say that.”

“Why didn’t you just suggest it in the first place?”

“Well, I uh, was a bit distracted.” I blushed with an awkward laugh as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“Well what can I say?” He smirked at me with a seductive grin. “C’mon, we’ve got a car to burn.”

“Who doesn’t love arson?” I added as we walked to the back of the house.

“Oh Frankie, it’s only arson if the police find out.” He giggled. “You’re silly sometimes.”

Why did I have to fall for a maniac? A smile creeped across my face once again.

As we approached the bodies at the bottom of the back yard, I gagged - the stench literally making me wretch. Gerard on the other hand continued as though we were nowhere near two decomposing corpses.

“Just ignore the smell.” He brushed off, picking up one of the bodies from under their shoulders and dragging them to the car.

The corpses’ skin were pale with a sort of sheen, but blotches of blood still pooled under certain parts of their skin. 

“How can you ignore something like that?” He really was mad. I was still standing in horror, grimacing at the foul-smelling remains.

“Hurry up Frank.” He said, ignoring my previous question. “Or I’ll finish the job myself, and there won’t be a reward for you if I have to do all the work.” He pouted at me as he dumped the body just outside the car. “C’mon, I need your help getting this corpse into the car.”

“Okay, okay.” I sighed. I shook my hands, mentally (and physically) preparing myself for dragging this deceased person.

Copying Gerard’s hold, I dragged the body as fast as I could to the car before quickly dumping it onto of the other and taking a few quick steps back. I breathed heavily, trying to catch my breath after holding it.

“Remind me to dispose of the body immediately next time I kill someone. I mean, if we have to get rid it that is.” I frowned with disgust.

“Look how far you’ve come! You’re even planning future kills now!” He was grinning like a kid in a candy store. “I’m so proud of you.” He held his hands to his chest.

“Well, I have you to thank.” I looked to the ground smiling bashfully.

“C’mere.” Gerard pulled me in for a hug. His cologne was unfortunately dulled by the smell of four day old corpses. He then pulled away slightly to place a gentle kiss on my lips.

Despite all his odd quirks, he was so much better than my ex-boyfriend; but those odd quirks were what built Gerard’s character. And to this day, he kept to his promise - he hadn’t hurt me; I guess I haven’t given him a reason to.

“Now can you please help me with these bodies? They’re a dead weight ya know.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Damn him and his puns - I refused to laugh at that.

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes instead.

Once we had managed to get the bodies inside the car, Gerard emptied a bottle of nail vanish remover and paint thinner onto the bodies a car.

“I’m not even going to ask.”

“What? I found them inside - I wasn’t going to use gasoline from their car, we’re going to need that when we leave here.”

“You’re very resourceful.” I laughed, it was almost comical.

“Indeed I am.” He smirked.

“Were you this resourceful when you were in that asylum?”

“Well, I managed to get my fair share of cocaine.” Woah, my boyfriend was a drug addict - it didn’t really surprise too much to be honest.

“Ah, so is that why you couldn’t smell the corpses? Snorted too much cocaine?”

“You need to stop having a dig at me buddy. It worked in my favour, didn’t it?”

“Buddy?” I chuckled.

“Pardon me your highness, would you prefer me to call you ‘your majesty’, or perhaps ‘babe’ or maybe even ‘little shit’?”

“Very funny.” I rolled my eyes again. “I wouldn’t mind babe though…” I trailed off. He still heard me though of course.

“Pass me the lighter, will you babe.” He emphasised with another one of his famous smirks.

“Of course, babe.” I replied with slight sarcasm, tossing him the lighter.

Gerard suddenly stopped in his tracks, tilting his head to the side slightly in curiosity.

“What is it?” I questioned, slightly concerned.

“There’s a bunch of stoner kids smoking weed in the woods just over there.” He smiled.

“How can you tell?”

“Oh, its pretty obvious - teenagers don’t just gather around a campfire in the woods for the fun of it; at least not nowadays.”

“I’ve got a great idea!” He added. I braced myself - I didn’t particularly want to join them for a stoner session. I’d rather just me and Gerard did that. “Why don’t you go and kill them while I sort the corpse and car problem out. I’ll keep a watch on you from here.” He really was lazy sometimes, or perhaps he was testing me…if it were the latter, I had to do it. I had to prove to Gerard that I can kill on my own, just like he can.

“Okay.”

“Just remember to keep an eye on all of them at all times - turning your back on one of them would be an incredibly bad move.” He warned.

“Okay, love you.” I walked up to him to give him a quick kiss.

I turned around and headed in the direction of the high teenagers, with nothing but a knife as my weapon.


	10. Chapter 10

I walked slowly over to the group of teenagers spaced out around the fire. There was only five of them - ‘it shouldn’t be too hard to kill them all’ I thought to myself.

“Hey mannn.” I dragged out putting a friendly hand on one of the dudes’ shoulder. They hadn’t even realised my presence until I spoke. “Mind if I join you?” 

I may have been a few years older than most of them, but I could definitely still be deemed at least an eighteen year old at first glance. And being quite the weed lover myself, I was undoubtedly in my element when acting on the high front.

“Hey duude, sure. No problem.” One of the guys grinned.

Maybe I should have killed them before they even saw me coming, but it was surprising how easily I was let into their circle.

“Sooo, what’s been kicking.” Another spoke.

“Been staying in a cabin with my boyfriend…banging all day everyday.” I slurred, laughing slightly.

“Nice dude.” The guy next to me high-fived me. I smirked in return.

“You got any dope?”

They sniggered. “Sure do.” They were all too out of it to really question anything I was saying.

After they handed me a packet, I took out an old receipt from my pocked and lined the weed up on it along with a roach, then rolling it up and licking it so it sealed. I pulled a lighter from my other pocket - the one that Gerard had used earlier - and lit the end of my spliff. 

It was a pretty shitty job to be honest - lets just say a receipt is not a great substitute for rolling paper.

As I inhaled and exhaled the joint, I chuckled slowly to myself.

“You’re gonna have to pay us though man.” The guy who greeted me said as I took a few more puffs.

Setting the joint down, I turned to the guy who spoke. “Yeah?”

He seemed slightly confused with my reply. Before he had the chance to speak, I sprung out of my seat on the log, pocket knife discreetly in hand and impaled his left temple.

Pulling the knife from his head, I pushed his body to the ground.

My actions had caused an uproar behind me. As I turned around, I saw two of them running off into the distance, screaming - I had expected that from all of them to be honest, but the other two teenagers kept their ground. 

Their responses definitely perplexed me; neither of them showed fear, but severe fury and anger with their hands balled into fists. 

If I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn I saw their eyes turn dark. I later reasoned that I was high as fuck.

They began to charge towards me, a slight smirk formed on my lips, lunging at me at the last second. As they pushed and tackled me to the ground, I thrusted the knife into the torso of the guy on top of me, yanking the knife down and tearing a substantial amount of flesh. With his cries of agony, he screamed profanities at me as he rolled off me and stood up, holding his stomach.

The other one, however, seemed even more infuriated; his hands went straight to my neck - ‘not this again’ I thought.

As I gasped for breath, I tried navigating the knife in my hand to his neck, but before I could cause any damage, he shoved my hand away, ripping the knife from my grip in the process.

Awaiting my inevitable death, I shut my eyes, slowly letting the asphyxiation take over me. ‘This is not how I should die’ I thought to myself once again. ‘What would Gerard think?’

With one last panicked push of energy, I used my free hand to find a rock and bash it over his head, however my lack of force only made him angrier, the hit barely phasing him. He removed his hold on my throat, and I breathed in forcefully, forcing the much needed oxygen into my lungs.

But with that he stabbed me. 

My disorientation dulled my senses for what seemed like forever; I heard a faint gunshot followed by hissing and more screaming. I felt a scratch on my arm and the weight of the person on top of me was no longer there.

I continued to cough and splutter as my eyes blinked open, my vision blurry and uncoordinated. But as the world came into focus, I saw the knife lying by my side.

Still breathing heavily, I picked it up and crawled over to the guy I had previously stabbed; there was not as much blood as I had anticipated, yet he still seemed somewhat close to death.

He looked over to me, his eyes dark yet showing an immense amount of fear. “You don’t know what you’ve done.” He wavered.

I was done with his shit, and with that I stabbed him through his eye socket, striking immediate death as the blade entered his brain.

Still in my slightly dazed state, I trudged over to that dickhead who tried to strangle me. He was lying on his back, hissing in pain.

He had been shot just to the right of his heart.

“Now listen here you fucker,” I spat, pointing the knife out to his face, “don’t you EVER try and choke me ever again. Only my fucking boyfriend can do that.”

Even in his pain-induced state, he chuckled almost menacingly at me.

“It’s not fucking funny!” I screamed, kicking his limp body. “I hope you enjoy hell.” I smirked.

Just as I was about to impale his heart, he spoke nonchalantly before smiling, “I hope you do too.”

With that, I stabbed his chest, puncturing his skin further as the blade sunk past his ribcage, directly striking his heart. He was dead with the first stab, but I continued to slice his skin open, stabbing him repeatedly.

That fucker had already given me enough grief, even in death he deserved this.

As I stood up, I looked over the three bodies lying lifelessly upon the cold ground. By this time the sun had almost completely set, shrouding the forest in darkness.

I smiled to myself as I turned around and headed back towards the house.

Bringing the knife to my lips, I looked at it curiously and licked it. The crimson liquid was foul to say the least. The iron taste made me feel slightly sick - I still can’t understand why Gerard enjoys the taste of blood so much.

As I finally approached the house, I saw Gerard leaning against the scorched car - the bodies had been reduced to a pile of ash, but the framework of the car was still somewhat there, charred. He had a cigarette in one hand and a shotgun in the other.

“I was wondering when you would get back.” He pouted slightly, dropping his gun and putting his cigarette behind his ear as he embraced me in a hug, followed by a quick kiss on the cheek. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and grinned as I stared up at him - his face was covered slightly in ash, yet he was still as beautiful as ever. “Two of them just gave me a little bit of grief, that’s all.” I shrugged.

He sighed and smiled as his thumb caressed the side of my face. “Well, it was a good job I came back outside just at the right moment. I went inside to fetch another lighter but with no luck, I found a shotgun instead. I told you I’d keep an eye on you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.” I smiled once again. “You’ve got a brilliant aim.”

“Oh, I know babe.” He rung out again, his smirk making its return. “Now hand me the lighter would you, I’ve been dying for a fag.”

“But you’ve got one standing right in front of you.” I laughed, returning the smirk.

“I’ll deal with you later.” He spoke slyly as he lit his cigarette, taking a long drag of smoke.


	11. Chapter 11

[Gerard’s P.O.V]

 

As I smothered the cigarette, I took Frank’s hand along with the shotgun in the other, and walked back to the house. 

I was most definitely proud with him, even with the slight mishap. 

As we entered the brightness of the house, I set the shotgun down in a closet and turned to face Frank. My eyes widened slightly however as I saw his neck and his forearm.

Blood littered the side of his neck and upper body, the source being stab wounds to the neck. How he wasn’t dead yet was a mystery to me, yet upon closer inspection the wounds were not that deep. 

Blues and purples trailed around his neck, the bruises vividly evident from strangulation. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

As my eyes trailed down to his arm, I noticed four scratch marks that had broken the skin. Blood trickled from each of them; the sight of Frank beaten up left me feeling slightly guilty - a feeling I never recall having experienced. The person who did that to him must have had incredibly sharp nails.

“Oh Frankie,” I sighed sympathetically, looking over his wounded body once again. “I’m sorry this happened to you, I should have just gone with you.“

“What do you mean?” He asked with slight confusion. “Oh, you mean my arm, no its fine, it’s just a scratch, it’ll heal.” He tried to form a smile.

I sighed once again, his naivety perplexing me - how could he not notice the stab wounds on his neck?

Taking his hand, I led him to the mirror in the hallway. As he looked at his reflection, a combination of fear and horror flickered across his face.

“Shit.”

“First Aid box to the rescue…again!” I trailed off as I jogged into the kitchen, soon returning with the magical box.

He hovered his fingers over his bloodied neck, gently touching the wounds before quickly pulling away as he shrieked in pain.

“Who knew stoner kids were so strong.” He chuckled a little. 

“Never underestimate a stoned teenager.” I shook my head.

I began cleaning his wounded arm with antiseptic wipes, but that quickly followed by another hiss of pain from Frank.

My mind was oddly screaming at me to apologise, but I was still torn with coming to terms with my emotions. These…feelings.

As I brought a clean wipe to his neck, I hesitated. My eyes locked onto his own, and I couldn’t help the smile that clung to my lips.

Dropping the wipe, I held his hips lightly as I pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

I felt yet another pang of emotion; I soon realised that I was somewhat taking advantage of Frank in this state, but that thought had never crossed my mind before.

He was just so beautiful, wounded or not. I wanted him, desired him more than anything…but I already had him - he was mine. So what was I waiting for?

I could kiss him as much as I please. He was mine after all. My pretty, pretty boyfriend.

Still eyeing up the blood that littered his neck and shoulder, I slowly broke the kiss, lifting the hem of Frank’s t-shirt, carefully pulling it over his head - once again, his tattoos leaving me in awe.

I leaned into the crook off his neck, licking the blood.

Being human and consuming too much blood can essentially make you throw up, however for me, just a taste of my victims’ blood has always given me that edge and adrenaline.

But Frank wasn’t my victim - instead my lover; and that might just have made tasting his blood even more of an adrenaline rush for me.

As I continued to suck at his neck, cleaning up the blood, yet creating even more bruises, whimpers of both pain and pleasure emitted from Frank’s lips. He seemed to almost shiver under my touch.

“You did so well today.” I purred as my lips moved to his jawline, then reconnecting with his mouth.

“But-“

“No buts,” I cut him off pressing a finger to his lips, “apart from yours.” I smirked, in which he replied with a giggle.

After quickly patching up the wounds, I picked Frank up, his legs wrapped round my waist with him staring lovingly down at me, and carried him up to the bedroom.

Approaching the bed, I sat down on it with Frank still clinging on to me, and therefore sitting in my lap.

Bringing my hands to his back, he leant down to kiss me.

Our lips once again moulded with each over, our teeth clashing slightly as our smiles grew.

He was mine. All mine.

I pulled him down so he was lying on top of me, my hands now weaving through his hair. 

For as long as I can remember, I had always been a top, but something on that day changed my mind - maybe I wanted to accommodate for Frank.

“I want you to fuck me, Frankie.” I whispered in his ear, biting it lightly as I pulled away to face him.

“Wha-“

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.” I grinned lopsidedly.

And with that, my hands found their way to his belt buckle, my lips still planting kisses down his neck and across his jawline.

Removing the constricting fabric, I rolled us over with me now straddling his hips.

“I want your dick inside me.” I whispered lowly, once again right beside his ear.

“…you’re gonna be so tight.” I heard his almost inaudible reply as I removed his boxers, revealing his semi-hard cock.

That really made me grin - the clarification that he wanted it as much as I did.

Quickly stripping myself of clothing, I began stroking his dick, earning pleasured sounds from Frank.

“You’re going to make me feel so good, Frankie.” I smiled down at him, caressing his cheek with my free hand, before reaching over to the bedside cabinet to grab the lube.

Lathering my fingers in a generous amount, I slicked up his dick, causing slightly laboured breathing on Frank’s part. His eyes fluttered shut so angelically - which was quite ironic to be honest.

I finished coating him in lube and wiped my hand clean-ish on the bed covers.

With my knees either side of his body, I hovered over his dick before he interrupted me.

“What about prep?” 

I chuckled. 

“Oh honey, I don’t need prep.”

I slowly sunk down onto his cock as he laid there, squirming in pleasure.

Me on the other hand, I was thinking that I should have gone for prep - but I was not going to let that ruin this moment. 

As the stretching became more uncomfortable than painful, I began to move up and down, as well as rocking my hips backwards and forwards. 

Frank was in ecstasy as he arched his back, his head sinking into the pillow. “Fuck…” He breathed out, “you really are tight.”

The sight of his glistening skin with the variety of sounds leaving his lips really helped me get off.

I leaned down tangling my fingers in his hair and kissed him passionately. He of course retuned the kiss, his arms clawing at my back.

As I sat back up, I felt his dick hit my prostate sending a rather loud moan spewing from my lips.

I placed my hands flat on his torso, whereas Frank continued to grip the sheets harshly, and I continued to bounce in his lap.

“I love you, Gee.” He managed to get out in between bated breaths.

“I love you too Frankie…f-fuck” I smiled, still riding his dick, before finally realising that in fact my own had not received any attention.

My head fell backwards as my hand pumped my dick in time with my rocking movements - each bounce still hitting my prostate; I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of this.

“Gee - you’re ass is just…ugh, I think I’m gonna cum.” His panting quickened and his hands dug into my thighs.

My own breathing hitched as I felt that familiar tightness and heat in my lower abdomen.

Higher pitched moaning and all sounds of sexual nature poured from Frank’s lips as he came deep inside me.

My hips only rocked more vigorously after that as I felt my orgasm approaching quickly.

“Fuck…Frankie.” I chanted, one hand still pumping my cock. I was so close to that euphoric feeling.

With one final thrust of my hips against his dick, my orgasm tore through me, leaving my hand and Frank’s chest covered in cum.

Frank squirmed, but whether it was from his dick becoming oversensitive or the fact that I came all over him was a mystery to me.

As I slowly pulled off, I shuddered at the empty feeling, but grinned a toothy grin as he stared up lovingly at me.

I could feel the substance trickle down my inner leg, but ignored it.

If my body would allow it, I would have sex with him over and over again.

I leaned down, pressing our foreheads together as I gazed into his eyes - once again I began kissing him. I just couldn’t get enough of his soft lips, his gorgeous smile and just every small detail about him - he was mine…forever.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

[Frank’s P.O.V]

I woke up the next morning laced within the arms of Gerard. I hummed happily as I traced his hand draping across my chest.

My mind wondered to the past, thoughts of yesterday all the way to when I first met Gerard. Recalling last night, I think it’s safe to say that Gerard has a blood kink. And lets just say I’m not against it.

I recalled how he technically kidnapped me, but…we’re together now, he loves me and I love him - I couldn’t be happier. We couldn’t be happier.

Thoughts of the life we could have together also wondered through my mind. I turned over so I was now facing Gerard - our faces inches apart. My shuffling, however, stirred him in his sleep. I brushed the hair out of his face as his eyes lazily opened.

He smiled tiredly before leaning in to place a kiss on my lips - of course I chose to ignore his morning breath. 

As we pulled away, just slightly, I returned the smile, thoughts still swirling in my mind.

“Do you think about the future?” I asked curiously.

He studied my face, tilting his head slightly before answering.

“Sometimes I do, but mostly I like to live in the moment.” He paused before continuing. “Just like being with you, right here, right now.” In which he trailed more kisses along my jawline.

I smiled at that, showing my appreciation by gently brushing a hand though his hair.

“But of course I like to plan my revenge,” he continued, “the guards and doctors are gonna fucking pay. Why are you so curious anyway?”

I froze at his words - I had a feeling he’d eventually suss me out, but I didn’t know how to say what I was feeling without being too forward.

“Uhh…I guess I was just wondering whether you ever considered having a family…as in, having children?”

A grin plastered his face as he leant up against the headboard.

I had known Gerard for barely two weeks but I was so in love with him that I couldn’t envision any future without him. 

“I can’t say I haven’t considered it.” He paused, before once again grinning at me. “And nothing would make me happier than having a family with you.”

I felt like I was in a trance, as though every word Gerard said was as a result of the dreamworld I was in. He really wanted this too.

“We could move far away,” He continued, “where nobody knows us, adopt a child or even a baby! Frankie, we could get married and have a baby together!”

His excitement added to my own, and once again I became overwhelmed with my love for Gerard.

I reached up for Gerard’s face, placing both hands on either side of his cheeks and pulled him down into a soft, intimate kiss.

“I love you so much Gee…”

Before he had the chance to reply, the doorbell rang followed by three knocks, which had seemingly originated from the front door.

Gerard huffed, reluctant to move his still tired limbs, but eventually climbed out of bed, even in his groggy state.

After throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he made his way down the stairs to the front door.

I laid back, intertwined in the comfort of the duvet covers, waiting for my boyfriend to return.

 

[Gerard’s P.O.V]

With a sigh, I fumbled with the lock of the door with a low-key hatred for the person standing the opposite side of it; who am I kidding, I hate everyone (with one exception); solitude with Frank was all I wanted.

The second the door was even slightly cracked open a voice began, “Sorry to bother you, however there was a disturbance in the woods last night. For witness purposes-“

The car. 

The uniform. 

The police officer standing in front of me seemed to recognise me before I could even comprehend the situation.

“Get down on the ground now!” His voice screeched as he cocked his gun towards my head, the sound alerting his colleague and apparently Frank.

With his arms locked out in front of him and his tense stature, I continued to stare at him for a moment. I began to feel slightly nostalgic - it felt just like old times. Once again I reminisced in the victorious death of mother and father - oh how I would kill to relive that moment.

It had became apparent that I was slacking, I had become lazy and careless - to the point that I didn’t even think to bring a utensil as simple as a knife. My recklessness had indeed cost me greatly.

“Now!” He repeated firmly, with hints of panic. As I left my daze of realisation, I decided from that point onwards that I would get my mind back in check - back to my old intimidating antics.

“I’m sorry officer,” I said tilting my head the slightest, “but I think you must have me confused with someone else.” Gripping to either side of the door frame, I booted the police officer, winding him from the impact to his stomach, to which I slammed the door shut, frantically locking it. As I span round, I almost ran into an anxious-looking Frank. 

The beckoning thuds on the door followed by “Open this door!” echoed throughout the house.

“Frankie, Frank - listen to me, we need to leave okay? We need to leave before they have us surrounded.” He nodded before I continued. “Only bring essentials, we’re leaving in the car in two minutes.”

As he scrambled up the stairs, I fetched multiple weapons from the downstairs closet. I must say, these guys definitely had an eye for explosives.

While rummaging though the kitchen to collect just a few more knives and some bleach, I came across a cupboard that I oddly hadn’t encountered before and to my surprise (and luck), I found a stash filled with bags and bags of cocaine, meth, heroin and various narcotics.

Two rather youthful people living in such an isolated place finally made sense; they were running a drug trade, or at least a part of said drug trade somehow.

Since they won’t be using it anytime soon, I decided to take a batch with me, meeting Frank seconds later in the car, still anxiety-driven. Dumping all the shit I picked up from the house in the boot of the car, I started the engine and reversed out into the clearing behind the house. 

Police sirens groaned closer and closer - as two police officers became twenty, I drove restlessly into the forest following the dirt track as quickly as I could without wrecking the front axel of the car.

Faint screams could be heard in the distance, and I grinned proudly to myself, and then to Frank as he turned to face me questioningly.

“What did you do?”

I hadn’t lost my touch.

“Well Frankie, within one minute I can wire a trip lead to set off pretty much anything - and that ‘anything’ in this case was indeed an explosion followed by a blaze. That’s why you always keep bleach handy.”

“Also,” I quickly added, “one of those girls were really into their automative mechanics - they happened to have a few canisters of acetylene - not your everyday explosive, nevertheless it still worked.” My grin widened.

He smiled, returning his gaze to outside the window while placing his hand on my thigh. He quickly removed his hand however as the speed I was driving along the path threw us around the car like rag dolls.

“Fucking hell Gerard!” Frank screeched as we hit a massive dip in the so-called road. The result of the impact emitted a metallic shriek; it had come to my attention that the underside of the car had indeed been battered. That obstacle however did not stop me; a main road was only a few hundred metres ahead. 

As we approached the clearing in the forest, I pulled away slowly onto the main road. My illusion of non-erratic driving had fooled the majority of road users that this was indeed not a car chase at all. In fact, luck had been on our side as the sound of sirens were no longer; the flicker of blue lights had also ground to a halt. The only disturbance was the smoke trail, erupting from deep within the forest, only barely visible over the trees. 

It wasn’t our problem anymore.


End file.
